A Tard's gotta Do........... It was hot , damn hot, I had worked up a sweat giving a wise guy a little chin music over at Flame for Cash. I decided it was time to catch some drinks but first I checked my mail. What's this , A PM from some dame, was she a femme fatale or a crème Brulee?. I tried to read between the lines, who was this slack jawed yokel she kept referring to? and what did that have to do with the ivory bird. I poured myself a scotch, the phone rang, I answered it with my chin. a voice like hot gravel at the other end of the line. "that Marlowe?" I slipped in my depressor. "no", "who's that then?" "who's askin" "I am" "who's I am? "what?" I wiped my mouth with my handkerchief , this guy wanted to play hardball "I said , whose I am? ," "look is that Marlowes place?" "maybe, maybe not " "yes or no?" "right back at ya slick" "look I wanted to reserve Forrest Gump for tonight , you got any copies in?" "strange choice" "what?" "strange choice of movie, for a guy like you" "forget it" the line went dead. there were a thousand stories in the naked city, I knew that, but things were looking hinky somehow, I guess I would have to follow the deal through and see how it played out. I slipped my typing wand into my shoulder holster, shut off the lights and walked into the door. I switched back on the lights, opened the door , shut off the lights again, dropped my keys, picked them up, cracked my head, locked the door and went out into the savage night. I hit the streets, hard , with my forehead, I reminded myself that with my withered leg I should take the elevator. Some kid pointed and laughed, "what's wrong with that mans face Mommy" , she asked. I gave them a look that could have chilled boiling water, the Broad smiled down at her kid, "He's an Idiot dear never mind, lets go get some Ice cream." I made my way to Paulie's place, It was a dim grimy joint , mainly it attracted the wrong kind of people, the underground guys, the smell of Cheap booze and Body Odour hit you in the face when you opened the door, it hit you in the face like a heavy working boot, not that I knew what that felt like, no sirreee bob. I took a seat at the Plank, the usual crowd were dotted around, There was One armed Sandy, his Anthrax Baseball cap pulled low to mask his dark, sallow crossed eyes. The Pokemon Boys sharing a Pitcher, Passing a Copy of Hentai Monthly and taking it in turns to vanish into the Bathroom. Rudy Hairlip was facedown in a corner, slowly inhaling his own vomit, a dark brown stain spreading across the back of his Khaki Jumpsuit. The Gimp feeding quarters into the Juke box weeping bitterly as he played "centrefold" by the J Geils band over and over again, I winced, things had gone bad for the gimp...but I had no room in my heart for pity , I had my own problems, like the rash and the male pattern baldness my ponytail could no longer realistically hide, and the Dames, always the Dames. Paulie rolled his chair down the Bar... "what'll it be moron?" "the usual Paulie" "what a curb stomping?" everyone was a comedian, Paulie was a nice guy once you got to know him, sure he had lost his legs in Grenada ,not in the war, he was the timpani player in the marine band and never saw actual action, but he got bushwhacked by a bunch of school girls who he had been leering over, still he was high as a kite and hadn't felt a thing. Even so it had left him pretty bitter, like three day old coffee, the white caul over his left eye didn't help his disposition none either. "just get me a beer Paulie" "he rolled off, the "squeak, squeak" said his tires needed oiling again. I nursed a couple of Beers, not saying much, but thinking, thinking about this dame, I sensed she might be Danger, but you have to play the hands that fate deals you, did I have room in my life for some Ice Queen Hell Bitch in my life and where would I put all those encrusted copies of hustler in my cold water flat if she wanted to come over, I sure as hell wasn't throwing them away, a man needs company in this town. She might not have said it outright but I knew "insipid, cretinous mouth breather" was a veiled come on if ever I saw one. I felt a tap on my shoulder, at first I thought it was my water on the Knee, but it was a tap on the shoulder. It was Igor the Stoolie, at last. Did his under bite look bigger than last time? It was hard to tell in the dim lights but it looked like the operation on his cleft palate had gone wrong again. maybe that's why he needed money so bad, to pay another back street butcher to fix him up. We exchanged greetings and moved to a booth. His breath stank of cheap wine and cheaper Urine, he put a case on the table. "ya got the mmmmmmmmmmoney" Suckers, stutter was a sure sign he was both nervous and trying to speak. "hold on ya got the Merch" He gestured at the case , I slipped my hook into the handle and pulled it across the table. I popped the latches and went to open it, Igor's hand came down on top of it. "whoa ttttttheir LLLady Boy, lets ssssssssssss, the Money" I took out an envelope stuffed with dollar bills and threw it in his face, he squawked like a wounded parrot and began counting out the 25 singles. A months wages for me, but what he had was priceless. I opened the case, their was a laptop and a floppy disk. I pulled out my piece and attached it to the fitting on my forehead, Igor was watching me , mucus running down his chin. "ya gonna lllllove it man, it's primo ssssshit, I had to go to hell and come back with a ddddevil in a ssssack to get it but..." Tip Tap, I double clicked on the floppy, and there it was... I didn't like traitors and stool pigeons at the best of times, but Igor had scored here, he had gone behind the back of those who trusted him , but it shows what a desperate paint huffer would do. "you like?" he drooled. I smiled "I like" It was like the holy grail, the flames, the initials, the skull, it was all there. I had my wings in Jpg form. "hey you don't ttttell no one where you got that rrrright, i'd be bbbooted for surre ifffff the PTB's got wind i gggave ya that" "don't worry, it's safe with me, now get out of here" , I popped the floppy and put it away. Igor took his laptop and stood up to leave, then he paused. "ssssso aint you forgetting something?" I fixed him with a glare "what you talking about?" "The rest of the deal, $25 andddddd........... " I remembered, those shower Polaroid's I had sneaked of my sister. I passed the envelope across and he grinned, tucked it under his shirt and booked. I took the disk out again and looked at it for a long time. Some People were gonna get Payback , I was ready. To Be Continued... Chapter 2 "Judge , Judy and Exfoliater" I left Paulie's with a spring in my limp, the disk sat snug in my shirt pocket. The heat had broken and the rain was coming down like God's tears, I stood and watched it for a moment and smiled to myself as I remembered something my High School principal had said to me. "look son, your a fat kid, you stink and looking at you makes me wanna campaign for enforced sterilisation of red neck pigs, you'll never amount to anything in this world" Up to now maybe that had held true, but I was sitting on gold, this worm was ready to sprout wings and become a butterfly. I spent a few minutes trying to hail a Hack. I couldn't be certain but I felt some of them were going out of their way to steer into the curb side puddles, finally soaking wet I got one to stop, the gnarled high yellow gave me the fish eye when I gave him the address I wanted, I checked his Id in the front window - "Hounddog Mcmurphy" the name rang bells but I couldn't place it, my short term memory had been losing it's edge since I had to start with the dialling wand, still at least it gave my nose a chance to heal. "yeah Hounddog a pretty tough neighbourhood" , I smiled at him in the rear-view. "say what?" "it's a pretty tough part of town but don't you worry about me , I'm plenty tough enough" "I'm not worryin bout you man, your face makes me wanna puke, I just hope ya don' leave a goddam odour in the back o' ma vehicle, I washed that thing out just last night, but funny I never heard the fruit quarter called tough before" I had a comeback prepared but he pulled his slat down making conversation impossible. I chalked it up as a win to me , he dropped the conversation thread after all. The rest of the journey was silent, we pulled up outside a dilapidated Brownstone, I got out, paid and hopped the three flights of stairs to apartment 666, the door was filthy with a pentagram crudely carved into the wood. This House call would be the final piece of the puzzle. I knocked on the door with my hook, I could hear scrabbling and heavy breathing inside before the chain was undone and the door pulled open. There he was. Harry Razor, maybe their was some kind of involuntary wince I couldn't hide in my expression but I had seen what I thought were facial warts before, Harry was teaching me how wrong I was. Rail thin and in his grey foetid underwear, his back covered in scars , his face looked like he had been drinking gravy and not wiped his chin but if you took a second glance it was a failed attempt at a beard. His voice was surprisingly high pitched, almost a whine. "well, well, well...what brings you crawling to my door" I played it cool, took a deep breath , I felt the asthmatic wheezing might interfere with my front "hi, Harry, I got a proposition for ya" he looked shifty for a second , his eyes went slitty, like a chinaman hit by teargas. "I don't trick like that no more, not since ...." "no , not one like that, I need a favour, can I come in". He chimp walked inside gesturing I follow, his fingernails were long and yellowing, the room was a mess, books and newspapers piled on every available surface, posters from Horror B movies on the walls, an Old Apple Mac in the corner covered with dust. He sat in his chair and waited, licking his tooth suspiciously. Harry Razor had been a major player back in the Day, but somewhere along the trip he lost his way, began to believe his own hype a little too much, he got sloppy, or maybe he just ran out of steam, it happened that way sometimes, he had long since settled for a static IP and the easy life. A guy would make a big entrance, take a few scalps but they burned the candle too hard and were reduced to one liners and Spam in the end. Still I needed his knowledge one last time. I decided to jerk his chain a little. He fixed me with a Baleful stare, "don't jerk my chain fatso" I stopped jerking his chain. Put it back on the hook by the fireplace where I found it. "come on burger boy cut to the chase" Fine, I didn't have time to play games either, I needed to empty my bag anyhow. "I need your help, I need a Sig" he cackled manically, the hairs rose on my arm "you, you want a sig from me, do you know who I am, I'm Harry Razor, I'm a god" I wiped the spit from my jacket, "I will make it worth your while" "what's a no hoper like you got to offer me?" I played my ace "I got a friend in the Precinct, he owes me a favour, those Drink driving tickets you got, I can get em repealed with one phone call" That got his attention , he shifted on his seat, sat on his hands, I heard it was an advanced masturbation technique, the hand went numb and it felt like.....well , let's just say I heard about it one time ok. "all of em?" "every last one Harry, you could have you milk round back in a month" he was falling for it suddenly something came over his face, I checked my flies, it wasn't me, it was terror, he was staring behind me, he began to chatter nonsensically. I turned round and there she was. a raven haired slattern , he eyes Kohl black, she looked like a slightly disabled yet still rampant Panda. Her rubber dress was skin tight, and didn't seem to happy about it, still she had a figure on her, sadly it was about 24. stone. I looked her up and down, her leather boots went up her legs till they reached the knees, which were swollen and hanging over the rim. Diana Quantain one hell of a Bitch, she had a heavy rep, rumour had it she came from somewhere in Eastern Europe but no one had lived long enough to confirm it. her voice was like blackcurrant jam being poured over a fish gutting knife. "get out worm" I tried to speak but she looked right through me. Harry was hooting hysterically now, thrashing in his chair. I thought about making a play, then decided to cut my losses and get the hell out, the door closed soft behind me and I heard Harry's high pitch screams begin. "mistress nnnnoooooooooooooooooooo". They were echoing in my ears as I fell down the stairs for the second time that night. To Be continued Chapter Three "kiss me Smeadly" I knew when I had left Harry's empty handed I was behind the eight ball in the last rack of the game, I wasn't sure what this actually meant , but then there were a lot of things I didn't know, Like how to tie my shoelaces or write in anything other than crayon. By the time I got back to the office I was pretty beat. I knew there was a Chinese angle to this thing I was missing, but seeing all my leads had clammed up and my friends were almost entirely battery powered or inflatable I knew I was gonna have to figure this out myself over a few tall glasses of Hooch. I took the elevator, it was fine apart from trapping my jacket in the doors which looked like it might have gone bad for me had the cheap gabardine not torn like tissue paper. i unlocked the office, hung up my propeller hat and pressed play on my answer phone, Three message, the first two I recognised the voice, it was mine, I misdialled a couple of times earlier in the day, on tape I noticed my lisp was a lot more pronounced than it was in real life. The third message was a voice I didn't know. "hey ya dumb palooka,i'm onto your dirty game, if I even get a hint your following my daughter one more time I'm gonna take a claw hammer and beat the f.." I pressed delete, some guy with a wrong number I figured. I slopped some bourbon over the desk and licked it up, I decided to try the next one out of a glass. I found a half crumpled pack of Luckies cigarettes, Luckie was trying to give up so I reckoned he would want me to have them. I sat in the darkness thinking. Igor was one thing but who was the strange cabbie and how did Quantain fit into all of this, what was with Harry and those scars and why did they cancel Sheriff Lobo, a man could drive himself crazy trying see all the sides to this caper. It had twists and turns and I couldn't be flexible enough to keep up , i had seen this kind of thing before, the time i almost broke my spine trying to suck my own..... The sharp harsh cry of the telephone interrupted my brooding , I took my depressor out of the desk draw, wiped the lint off and picked the phone up. At the last second I realised I had used the wrong hand, my hook threw the receiver sharp left, the cord wrapped itself round my throat and then it smacked me in the side of the head. I got my breath back after a short gagging period. "hello" "you don know me fly boy but I, sure as James brown is the king of soul, know you" I didn't recognise the voice, but something seemed odd about it, i couldn't put my finger on it. but I didn't like his tone "who is this?" "say wha brother , you tellin me you don know who i am?" "no should i?" "if I'm lyin, I'm flyin, I make it my bidniss to know your bidniss and i don't be truckin wid no sissy boys when i did my time up in Folsom, you can call me Poppa chump change." "what?" "MY NAME is Poppa , but you might as well be callin me JC your righteous Negro saviour, cream cheese" "Poppa?" Cream Cheese? my attention span had been fried when they gave me the electroshock therapy to cure my Tourettes three summers ago, and I was struggling to keep up with this clown. "dat's right and i am here to save your lily white ass homey, i hear you are looking for a righteous sig and I have the honey to make you shine" "how did you hear that" I knew how he'd heard , word spread like California wildfire out there, the only way to keep a secret in this town was to tell no one, and make sure you don't scream in your sleep, I really should have bought that nocturnal ball gag. "let's just say i make it my bidniss to keep my ear to the ground" "so what's your point?" "my point is peckerhead I gots what you need sat right here , if you wanna play, you gotta pay, the price is a double sawbuck and that's all I'm takin" I decided to take a chance, what the hell it had been a crazy day and I might as well ride this roller coaster until I threw up my milkshake and Popcorn. "fine you know the Burger joint on 5th" "Coronary Cabin, sure I know it" "say, half an hour" "half an hour" "you always say what your told" I had him on the rack now "can it rube, you aint got enough game to even step in the ring" i smiled, a back down, Owned! "how will i recognise you?" "oh you'll know me whitebread" "ok so you’re a black guy right" "what makes you think that?" "errrr, i just thought" "you didn't think sucker, that's your problem, I'll be the guy with the ginger hair and the webbed hand, don't be late foo'" the line went dead, seemed we had a new player in our little game, still I wasn't worried, it looked like things were about to get interesting , and when the going got interesting the tough came over all Billy Ocean, or something like that. I poured my self another shot for the road, all the dialogue had fuzzed my mind a little , suddenly the door opened, the temperature in the room dropped 10 degrees. A hell of a dame she was poured into red satin, against it's will obviously but who was counting, she had a body on her too, the kind you would want right next to you if you copped a flat on a wet night and had left the Jack in the garage. She exuded a sensuality , of course it was a sensuality that went hand in hand with her ocular disorder but she could even make a lazy eye look slightly less repellent than usual. "good evening" , the rasp was unsettling but perhaps she had a heavy cold or throat cancer , it was hard to discern. "hey doll face, what brings you up here" "wouldn't you like to know" "actually yes, this is private property" "drink?" "constantly" I felt a stirring in my loins I hadn't felt since that dog show in Maryland the year before as she waddled over and pulled a hip flask from her garter belt. I took a long belt on the jug, She was smiling like a panther, or a retard , the bourbon had made my eyes water so it was difficult to tell. "you like your liquor don't you" "listen Honey , I'd rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy, you know what I'm saying" she smiled again, "it might be a bit too late for that" something wasn't right, my head was starting to swim and my vision was blurry, normally I had my brain pills for this but it felt different somehow, I lost all the strength in my arms...damn the jug had been spiked, she'd slipped me a Mickey...the last thing I remember was her breath on my face, it smelt vaguely of turnip, when she accidentally poked me in the eye with her nose I thought it had sort of killed the mood, she whispered, "you want Ice with that?" Then everything went black. I was back at the prom , the rented tux felt tight across my hump , as the band played "three times a lady " by the Commodores and Jane's doe eyes looked deep into mine. We had both been drinking jolts of 20/20 all night and the heat was rising fast. I slid my hand further up her wooden leg, splinters be damned, tonight I was going to become a man, I leaned forward to plant one on her lips, briefly suppressing my involuntary gag reflex, suddenly the van doors were thrown open and I was being dragged out into the car park, I could hear voices...Kick the Cripple, Kick the cripple, they taunted, I got a mouth full of Asphalt and then the stomping began. I couldn't say how long it went on, I was seeing more stars that Sylvester after a blow with a lump hammer at a Hollywood premiere. Then it stopped , I lay there sucking in huge lungfuls of air, my callipers were yards away, liquid hit my face, it was tangy and warm and tasted of cheap blended Scotch....through the blur I could see Mr Chambers, my wood work teacher standing above me his Johnson in his hand........ my head was giving me a new definition of the drum roll and someone had thrown scotch in my face, the stinging in my eyes and nose bought me round. I was tied to a chair in a hot room, my vision was blurred but I could make out the decor, it was like the Hellfire club after it had been dragged through the Imagination of a sexually frustrated war gaming Nine Inch Nails fan. All red flock wall paper and black plastic masquerading as Patent leather. Eventually I could make out the figures lined up in front of me and my blood ran cold. There was a bookcase heaped with leather bound volumes, worn and dusty I recognised some of the titles...The Necronomicon, The Moons A Balloon, The Beginners Guide to Internet Flaming, Life is a Cabaret , Uncle McChestys bumper book of alliterating insults and Flowers in the Attic Leaning Louchely against the case was a tall hook nosed guy, dark hair swept back with just a hint of white at the temples, his velvet purple suit expensively cut gave him a rakish distinguished air which was only slightly spoiled by the razor burn and white plastic reactalite rapide glasses. I'd heard the rumours, seen the CCTV footage...It was Dominic Day. Next to him, a hunched hideous creature sat in a wicker bath chair, his head bald and covered in weeping red sores, his hands like claws gripped the sides, a really quite pleasant Tartan Shawl across his knees , but it was his eyes , or lack of them that drew you in, like black soulless pits...actually like that bar on the interstate where you can get horse burgers and Country and Western fans go to die. There was no mistaking him or his missing ear....people thought he was dead...long dead but sat in front of me as clear as the boils on my face was Eric Von Blood. Of course those two meant the blonde with the missing septum and heaving gut squeezed into a faded bustier could only be Deirdre, the siren of the net. How many men had crashed there rocks on her shores, last I heard it was triple figures but that wasn't counting the bukkake rumours. I looked at her, waves of cellulite undulating like a puddle of sludge in a strong wind, she was holding a leash , I followed it down, some kind of half dog, half man with a pinch of tricycle riding monkey thrown in, creature was on the end, it's gimpish human face topping a hairy malformed body...she must have read something in my eyes.... "don't worry, that's Bumcheeks we have him well trained"... at the sound of his mistresses voice the vile abomination rolled over on the rug and whined as she caressed the spot where his cojones would have been with her stiletto. That left two more. again I knew them by reputation. Squat, stripped to the waist , his abdomen smeared in faeces and deep welts, a bag on his head where red feral eyes gleamed out of two slits....Sam Runt...a badass with a speech impediment so brutal he had to have his jaw wired shut most of the time. Finally - hunched over, red-faced and masturbating furiously into a sock with a pair of briefs on his face was Cindy - A cross dressing antipodean sex freak, dingo's ran when he hit the outback. A pretty fearsome grouping - but I felt confident, lashed to a chair with no trousers on and a pair of novelty donkey ears on my head, I still knew I had the skillz to take 'em on. Day moved from the bookcase , he had a brandy goblet in his hand , he swirled the murky contents in a pretentious and tiresome way. "so we meet at last, do you know where you are?" "a smashing Pumpkins Convention?" a quizzical look crossed his face.. "well yes, but that's not what we are here to talk about" Runt let out a howl and flailed his arms but Deirdre calmed him with a soothing hand on his calloused shoulder. "look sport, I'm a busy man....what's the gen, and don't feed me ginger" his right cross caught me on the side of the head, pow badda bing and the fireworks went of in my head like the fourth of July...Cindy came with a groan at the same time, paused for a second and the resumed jacking off. "don't cut wise with me Asshat or you'll get another visit from Broderick" I shook my head to clear the grey spots. "we have been watching you...every step of the way....did you really think you could finagle us?" "PKB..." i drawled. "what?" Von Blood hacked up a lump of phlegm the size of a Chihuahua's head.... "PKB"...I repeated "no it wasn't" I was confused for a second, but I had spent most of my life like that. "wasn't it?" "no...bloody halfwit" that was something to think on. Bumcheeks began to whine pitifully... "quiet you Fawning Lickspittle, we will give you a fresh sig later my dear" he slumped back on the rug and urinated....Deirdre's words enough to calm him. "Let's cut to the chase bucko....you know your Therapist Mr Fraud....he's been on our payroll for years...he told us all about you low self esteem and plans to infiltrate us with a knock off Avatar.......oh and you premature ejaculation...we all got a kick out of that." I pictured that white haired old fruitcake...$25 an hour to sell me the hell out.....did the Hippocratic oath mean nothing....no wonder he got struck off for prescription forgery. Day Continued smarmily.... "this is the lay of the land .....we could kill you...dump your body over at Shinra and it would be months before the smell got bad enough for the residents to notice.....but we have plans for you and we are going to cut you some slack....Deirdre, care to clue this gimp in on the SP" She waddled forward.....I couldn't believe what she was saying...a plan so diabolical...so terrible. so plain goddamn evil that it would have made Lucifer cash in his chips and start a car rental business. I don't think I will ever forget there grinning maniacal faces. I staggered out into the dawn...the light hurt my eyes but a least I was alive.....So many stories and this had just been one..... but I had my task the chance to make a name for myself....yes I was beholden to those fiends but still..in time with a bit of luck I might just ....... time to go I had a Proboard to set up. I even had the name "flamechimps" Chapter 4 "South of the Border or Tijuana mon Amour" It was a fact and anyone who was anybody knew it, that the only place to go for both Donkey sex and Hooky URL's was down this way, I had been lucky to escape a Harlem sunset up to now but out of site and the gaze of the inner circle I could feel my confidence returning. the Donkey Sex sounded appealing as long as it didn't make an ass out of me. I climbed down from the short bus , the driver, a greasy wetback, was shouting something, my Mexican wasn't good but I caught the words "filthy animal", "Exposing yourself on my Bus" and something about the toilet being backed up before my bag hit me in the back of the head. One thing I had learnt was not to trust shifty Mexicans and that when a man and a women love each other very much they often show this affection by putting their baby son in a weighted sack. I took stock of my surroundings, the main drag was basically a wide dirt road, lined with whore houses, bars and dilapidated clap clinics...the street was full of drunken farm hands brawling...I noted a lot of them were using fists and broken bottles rather than pithy remarks in different coloured fonts which was new to me. I dragged my foot through the dirt, Tijuana Hookers shouted from doorways , offering everything from felching to queefing and all points round the world in between, it reminded me of the Bedroom Forum, only with real people not sex starved maniacs...Tijuana Hookers made me think William Shatner...which made me think men in tight clothing. I needed a jorum of skee , the heat was getting to me, I fitted my clip on sunglasses to my face and shuffled into the nearest gin joint. It was dark, I fell over a table and cracked my chin on the floor...my sunglasses skittered across the clay tiles...it wasn't so dark. I made my way to the bar, Mariachi music poured from the juke and a couple of old Papa San types were smoking hop in a corner booth...a bunch of Federales gave me the fish eye and the once over but I was cool enough, I could feel the comforting weight of my I-Pac tucked into my belt. "Tequila" The Bartender was A Creole mongrel and a gimp to boot he came over.... "hi I'm Nikita and I'll be your waitress this afternoon" holy cow , it was a women , I hadn't seen facial hair like that since my uncle got back from being chained to that radiator in Iraq. "tequila" she reached up for the bottle, her under arms sagged and looked like dead wasps nests..I took a handful of peanuts off the bar...a rabbit hopped by.... "ah senor those are not peanuts" I gagged, she grabbed the back of my head and slammed my face off the pock marked plank...I got my breath back. "thanks Nikita" "what for senor?" "the push" "oh don't thank me sir, I just felt like doing that, your face ...eet is Diablo to me". She put the bottle and a shot glass in front of me and left. I poured a drink....I'd get a buzz on then get to work. The Tequila burned my throat, it tasted like Paraffin...I went to pour another and I heard a drawl. "What's a girl gotta do to get a drink around here?" she was perched on the stool next to me....at first I thought she was legless...then I realised she was...a small wooden trolley was on the floor by her seat. of course I knew her....Fatima Oxley....one time southern Belle, she had mad a splash at the debutant balls , but she was crazy too, down here they would call her Loco, she had got wrapped up with the wrong crowd, rumours told of her Nymphomania and her addiction to OXyContin...she had drifted off the radar and shown up here in TJ. She'd been a looker....a ball buster and a homecoming queen, but now rail thin, her red hair matted to her face, her once formidable bust was seeing more of South America than the rest of us....yet she still had a look in her eye. I poured her a shot "hey toots , what's a nice girl like you doing..." there was a blade against my throat. "you even finish that cliché and I'm going to cut you a new hole" "hey , cool it sister" she lowered the blade, downed her shot and poured another, the knife was still in her lap though. "you know this place well?" I asked. "well enough why" "I'm looking for someone....thought you might be able to help me out" "what's in it for me ?" "I'll make it worth your while.....I'm looking for a guy Hernando Conchez-Trejo, he's a grifter and a flim flam guy from back east" She smiled....well either that or she was dying. "I know him.....like I say what's in it for me" I slipped a double saw buck, she snarfed it and pushed it into her Bra. "Across town, the Chlamydia bar and grill....he's the short order cook...oh and try the Ribs" I stood up, left some money on the bar for the hooch... "keep the bottle Dame" "I was gonna, hey you wanna party a little more....five dollars US....I might not have legs but I wriggle like a fish on the harbour" "maybe another time" I walked out......lady parts always scared me. It was dusk outside, but the heat was still oppressive.....White GI's on a 48 hour pass lay slumped in the gutter, locals took the chance to roll them. Actually roll them, there was a fair incline , they had a book running and the winner got all the refried beans he could eat. My Money was on the Fat Jarhead with the Tropical shirt on, he looked like he could pick up a fair head of steam given a decent push off.....still I didn't have time to waste. I Reached the Bar and Grill .....I could smell it before I saw it....rancid pork and Off Mayonnaise...reminded me of Grandma. I went in.....no time for Niceties , some chimp directed me to the back kitchen, I gave it a banana. I went down a corridor and through a bead curtain into the Kitchen. Trejo stood...350 pounds in his stocking feet, wrapped in an apron smoking a Cohiba while he fried up a mess of something. "heeeeeey It's the Gringo wid the Assface, you been askin after me no?" "yeah i been looking for you" "word spread fast in this town....you like feet?" he gestured at the pan with his cigar, the ash fell in and added to the sizzle. "what Hogs feet?" "hey damned if i know.the bag jus marked feet .....anyway why you looking for me eh?" "i heard you got URL's for sale.....i need one" he put down the pan and made his way across the room, i couldn't see his ankles for the rolls of fat but....he didn't move smooth enough to be on Skates. He had knife scars on his face, like someone had played tic tac toe, then Hangman and possibly Monopoly, it was difficult to be sure. He took a key from round his neck and opened a draw, took out a small silver box and opened that with a second key. He rifled in some papers before selecting one, he handed me an envelope. I used my hook to cut the seal , shook out a sliver of paper onto the counter. www.flamechamps-leotards.de "there you go amigo , $50 on the market, 200 hundred to you cos I hate you already." I flushed with excitement, a stirring in my loins...no it was the pubic lice. I counted out the cash....all I had left in my Disney Checking Account. "two things..."de"..what's that I was expecting info or com" "hey shut your face.....it means "desired" hey....very rare" he spit tobacco juice on my shoes...which was odd since he wasn't chewing tobacco. "ok...on the hosting....it's not one of those servers that appears to crash on a daily basis....mentioning no names" he scowled at me...."What're you implyin you Son of a bitch...you questioning my Merchandise?" I wet myself.....not through fear...I liked the warmth. I left the money on the table..... "adios Trejo" ...I waved as I made my way out... He threw me the jack off sign and went back to cooking. Things were looking up...all I needed now was to round up the old boys and I might still have time to get the girl. My Next stop was the Chula Vista home for the criminally stupid. Chapter 5 Bring me the Head of Rabbi Mitch Cumstein The trip from TJ to Chula Vista seemed to take months...but I finally made it to the Sister Holy Dee Flection asylum for the criminally Stupid a little after dusk, I limped up the long gravel drive, it was an impressive old Mansion, gone to seed a little , I could here the muffled howls of the Plonked and dreary on the evening air...."u r gehy...too long , couldn't read", it was depressing, like that photo album mother insisted on showing people of me in the blue Gingham dress, how was that representative of a man...I was eighteen , who knows there own mind at that age. I made my way in to the reception area and stopped to use my hook to unlodge the gravel that had lodged in my callipers, it was dark and cool inside, all rich oak panelling and Oil Paintings...I looked at one, it was no Oil Painting , it was a frail in some glad rags...she had a sour mug and what appeared to be some kind of brutal neck injury, it was a chink doll...some ex-patient....it was called Skin Flu-te. "you like that?" A honeyed voice, with a hint of a slur...it gave me a start, I lost my balance and fell into a plant, my bit skidded across the tiled floor. I crawled to the reception booth and used it to pull my self up. Another goddamn Dame....a wall of red hair and a weird series of facial tics, she was shrouded in Reefer smoke and her crisp white nurses uniform seemed to be covering three breasts....I rubbed my eyes but still it looked odd. "what's that Doll Face" "did you like the painting?" "I don't know much about art" "or remaining vertical it seems", she smiled to herself "I know what I like, I like what I know, and I like what I see" "what?" "I'm not sure" "can I help you" Another notch on my Verbal Bedpost...she was spanked and knew it. I took my wallet out of my flogger and showed her my ID. "so you are a member of the Iowa Gay and Lesbian alliance...and?" I glommed the card...wrong one...I flipped through till I find the one I wanted.... "I think that Juju is getting to you baby...I'm from the Fernando Valley Medical Examination Board...I'm looking for a patient who resides here...a Mr Angel Tucson, he was referred 10 months ago." She turned round and bent over to look at the files......I looked at her haunches...I felt a crawling sensation in my groin...it was times like this I was glad to have a hook hand, the dry heat made my scabies hell on earth. She put the manila folder on the desk, I recognised the snap shot as Angel right away, it was the Goiter, we used to call it Brian. "ok , yes Mr Tucson....referred , as you say ten months ago with a severe caser of Faglaming and Hypocritia, and some residual delusions...ha, he kept saying he was writing a book, we get a lot of those" "hey, you little Chippy, he was writing a book....a damn good book" "yeah.....of course he was....they all are mister....anyway he got moved a couple of months back" That was hinky for sure, I leant into the folder, she recoiled. "Jesus...your breath stinks of Ass" "are you telling me Angel just upped and scrammed the hell out of here...I don't buy it, are you stringin me, you saying I made this trip for biscuits" "Hey, you breathe on me one more time and I'm calling security....it says right there, signed out at 11pm on the 16th..." "it's written in green crayon...that usual for round here?" "it depends on the Doctor...yeah that looks right it's Dr Horse, he's our Cardiologist, he always writes with that" "signed into the care of a Professor Mulligatawny...mmm, this Horse Doctor, he around?" "no he's retired last month, well he quit actually, he does it a fair bit....he's a bit senile, he lives in town, he might be able to tell you more" "fine....say, what time do you finish" "don't even bother" I limped into town, something was wrong with this whole Enchilada, the Guy on the Taco stand said it was goat , but I'd blown enough goats in my time to know when I was being fed a line of crap...pure and simple, I binned it and hit a phone booth with my overbite, I glommed a Phonebook and got the address I needed Dr Horse's House looked quiet, there were no lights on , I used my hook to pick the lock on the back door, turns out it was already open, so I had locked it, I picked it again and slipped inside, when I got back up I checked the Icebox, I had a hell of a swelling on my temple, it was full of Ketamine and angel cake. .....seemed the horse doctor was taking his Horse obsession a little to far....I laughed in the darkness at my own joke....I'd remember that one for the next time I met a Doctor called Horse with a Horse tranquilliser addiction...perhaps I could work the Cake in as well....rack! I made my way through the house...I was pleased I only hit one side table, a grandfather clock , a suit of armour and got my leg briefly caught in a man trap, things could have been worse, I opened the Bedroom door....Horseface was stiff on the bed, it happened sometimes when a man was hanged....I tried not to look at his Johnson rod...He would be no use to me now, his next stop was a wooden Kimono...I looked a little closer, there was blood under his fingernails, he's been fighting , this was no suicide.... Suddenly a high pitched yelp came out of the darkness and a 3 ft ball of hair and black clothes came racing towards me, Using my unique low centre of gravity I was able to avoid it's charge by tripping over my own feet...the diminutive Assasin ran straight into a wall head first, bounced back and flailed his arms and legs in some kind of grotesque mockery of Martial Arts.... "I kick yo ass,i'm gonna pistolwhip you good, I know 500 different killing blows, I going to get Industrial revolution on your tush....I never back off...I'm catching a plane to .........." He was gasping for Breath, he fell to the floor and I heard his death rattle...He'd swallowed his tongue, he's actually choked on his own rhetoric.....another one.....OWNED by me. I searched the body.......he had a silenced dialling wand....a custom job, set to drivel, a regular button-mans trick, it makes the text splatter spread wider for more ridiculous impact. I fished His Purse out, it was a nice clutch bag..."Samuel Payne"....I'd heard that name a few times from a number of places....a trigger man out of Chinatown. What the hell was he doing down here, why had he killed the Doctor and Where the hell was Angel. This was turning into one of those long drawn out nightmares where you don't seem to have the faintest idea what is going on , or what anyone's motivation is....like a rap battle call out. Unsurprisingly, the Phone Rang.... "who is it?" "is that the Dick" "might be" "are you a dick or what?" "yes" "hah...dick.....put the detective on" "that's me too, who the hell are you wiseguy....Al Waxman or just another chump change joker with an attitude....It's been a long day, what do you want?" "Hey...cutting Smart Eh?" "can it....when you're Spanked you'll take , and like it" "Bet you're pretty Confused right now , " "no more than usual" "Well I might be able to provide some answers.......my Names Speck, Max Speck" "Speck!" Something cold ran down my spine, it was the last remnants of the Ice Pack on my forehead from Downstairs. "you are Speck...of The STD mob" "yeah....and go easy on the name...I don't want it worn out by people like you bandying it around all smart like" "you just told me it" "Button it and listen up ....I have info, Info On Angel, and all of this crazy mess...secret info, especially on Deirdre and Those folks you don't like so much....and I'm willing to Spill....for a price" "what's the Price" "it's the cost of an item or services to be remunerated to one party by another in exchange for said goods or services" "I see" "I doubt it.....see this game, it's no game.....it's no game at all, in fact you could say it was the exact opposite of a game.....almost the anti-game........it goes all the way to the top...and reaches right back in time" "interesting, can we meet" "you know the Stylistics Club?" "yeah that Doo-wop Joint across the Bridge" "one hour, come alone and hey...." "what?" "don't tell my dad." The line went dead.......this thing was out of hand, it had more turns than a avoidance 'tard and was moving faster than a speeding Zeke leaving the scene of a thread. I closed the door on the two stiffs and limped off into a fresh Chapter.